Post by Mathias Luxon on Mar 27, 2008 12:08:26 GMT -5
Character's name: Mathias Luxon
Nicknames: Grant
Species: Human {English}
Gender: Male
Age and birthdate: February the ninth, 1807
Physical appearance: One does not quail in terror upon glancing Mathias Luxon. A man of average height and a weight considered a bit below the norm, this man of the cloth is a frumpy reminder of the clergy’s olden days in which poverty was glorified. That isn’t to say Luxon is a gaunt wretch… perish the thought. His skin is smooth and appropriately pale, due in no small part to the scholarly habits of Mister Luxon. A peek into his eyes only serves to reaffirm any claims in favor of his good health.
Nature rarely elects to bequeath lowly humans with grand eye colors. As with most, Luxon was overlooked in the distribution of such marvels. His eyes are, for the most part, brown. Yet it is the golden specks lurking just beyond the power of a single glance that set them apart, catching the light in undeniably mysterious ways when the situation demands it. They seem to burn with righteous flame, though that may just be the ravings of heretics. Flame or not, Luxon wears a pair of small spectacles to offset the damage caused by years of reading by candlelight.
The hair of Mister Luxon is all the more unremarkable, being of a far less intriguing brown than his eyes. One might liken it to mud… or pudding. Entirely undesirable pudding, no doubt. This most deplorable of colorations inspires nothing short of absolute apathy in the aging fellow’s heart. Being of the traditionally short length popular among the clergy, Luxon’s hair is left to point in every direction, as if straining to escape the troubling thoughts lurking just centimeters beneath it.
Luxon scoffs at the traditional Magisterial garb, preferring instead to don finely tailored suits. When the situation demands it he wears the robes of his office, though his alterations have made them far more flamboyant than intended. Running with the serpent motif Luxon has sewed golden snakes onto every outfit. The younger members of the Church consider it quite fun to seek out these telltale reminders of Luxon’s eccentricity.
Special abilities: Nothing has made itself apparent. It has been suggested that Luxon’s voice carries more power than most, though nothing is proven.
Likes: Luxon is quite fond of animals, with extra attention being paid to rabbits and small birds. Snakes also hold a special place in his heart. As a scholar, Luxon is deeply infatuated with books. Old ones especially. As to nature, Luxon adores the cold and all that goes with it.
Dislikes: Luxon dislikes children, the infirm, the elderly, and the obese. He rarely shows these distastes, yet they can be seen in the movements of his thin eyebrows. Additionally, having to repeat himself infuriates Luxon.
Fears: Fire absolutely terrifies the man. Then again, fear is a logical response to something so crude. Luxon’s also weary of fish.
Interests: Luxon’s a bit of a cartographer, collecting and creating maps of myriad locales. He practices marksmanship religiously, anticipating constant threats to his life.
Personality (2-3 paragraphs): Absurdly nonchalant is a phrase thrown about within the Church in reference to Luxon. It’s an understandable misconception… Luxon is quite lighthearted, as they so often say, in his daily interactions. Certainly more so than his uptight peers. In official matters of magisterial law, however, he lets a bit of his true self shine through.
A miraculous orator, Luxon’s voice flows through one flesh to snare the heart and mind. His eyes burn with that divine fire, his fist strikes the podium, and everyone is under his sway. He has an almost casual way of ordering the deaths of the Church’s enemies, inspiring both fear and roaring support. Luxon’s mind is a deep, unfathomable thing. Wheels within wheels, fires within fires, one might say. He never stops thinking… the majority of his energy is depleted in a valiant effort to foresee every possible outcome to each and every event in the mortal sphere. He makes a point of preventing this from interfering with his duties, though it does give Luxon chronic migraines.
There are rumors that Luxon is afflicted by hypomania. This particular mental disorder is, in most cases, more beneficial than harmful. It has the delightful habit of preventing those blessed with it from realizing their limitations, urging them to press on regardless of logic. A hero’s disorder, often leading to a hero’s death.
Daemon's name: Merihem
Species: Python {African Rock Python}
Gender: Female
Appearance: Merihem is a peculiar creature, possessing the abnormal coloration that Luxon’s eyes lack. Her body is primarily a bluish grey, giving way to brilliant golden patches here and there. One such patch is located upon Merihem’s serpentine face. She’s fairly long {as African pythons tend to be}, reaching well over eighteen feet when fully extended. She prefers to drape luxurious length over Luxon’s shoulders, winding herself around his torso and left leg, occasionally making her way down his right arm. The effect is unsettling.
Personality: The great serpent serves as Luxon’s stabilizer, keeping him anchored to the mortal plane. Were it not for Merihem’s gentle chiding he may simply fade into deep thought and never come back. Calm regardless of the situation, she has nothing in the way of mercy or remorse, encouraging Luxon to do whatever is needed to preserve the power of the Magisterium. Her voice is just as intoxicating as that of her human counterpart, and she has no qualms about using it around others. Furthermore, the taboo does not limit Luxon and Merihem as it does most. If someone needs strangling… she’s happy to oblige.
Family lineage: The Luxon line is one of atheistic scholars, passing prodigious wealth along through the generations. The parents of Mathias were in many respects an extreme representation of this, striving to eliminate the church’s influence. They perished in a fire during Mathias’ ascension. His grandfather, Morigan Luxon, yet clings to life.
History: Born to scholars, Luxon was raised in a musty world of books and poor lighting. Being of a gifted financial state he was spoiled quite thoroughly, instilling in him values appropriate to his station. Step on the poor, seize power, laws are guidelines. True to these querulous ideals Luxon resolved to rule the world. A child’s dream, to be certain. Yet it stuck with him as he grew older. He began to see the weakness in those around him, the frailty of a human condition. Could it be that they need to be controlled? Could they be so weak as to require constant direction from a benevolent higher power?
So came Mathias Luxon to the Church’s doorstep, for their beliefs coincided with his own in many respects. It would be through the Magisterium that he would gain strength. What a glorious scam! By assuring the people that they would be saved in the next life, what was to stop them from working tirelessly in his favor in this one? They would gladly fling themselves into the fire-mines if the Church advised it as a more efficient means of procuring salvation. Armed with ambition and a cautious cynicism, Luxon began to ascend the Magisterium’s ranks.
In the roughly twenty years that Luxon has spent within the church, a great deal has happened. Twice was he deployed with Magisterial battalions to subdue pockets of profanation. On the second trip he found his zeppelin consumed by flames, moving rapidly toward the ground. Stumbling out of the wreckage, he and three other survivors were immediately beset by armed dissenters. Being of sound mind, Luxon promptly threw one of his companions into the path of bullets intended for him. Wasting no time he took up his fallen ally’s rifle, with which he dispatched those who would do him harm. To ensure that credit went where it was due, Luxon slew his remaining companions. A single survivor makes more of a hero.
For a time Luxon found himself the personal secretary of the Consistorial Court of Discipline’s head. In Luxon’s humble opinion, this man was far too soft… not at all worthy of any position pertaining to discipline. Accordingly, Luxon did away with him. By now the young man already had quite a following. This made his labors all the more easy. Upon his supervisor’s death, Luxon took up the position. With it came the title of Cardinal, making him the youngest person to ever be called such.
The next years would prove to be the most essential to Luxon’s rise. His superiors readily recognized the extent of his ambition, acknowledging that they would either have to stop him now or stand aside. Most chose the latter, though one brave soul preferred the former. A knight at heart, the poor man challenged Luxon to a duel. Mister Luxon, however, had other plans. Playing his opponent’s game, he invited the man to share a glass of Tokai with him before the fight. As his would-be foe drank, Merihem quietly suffocated the fellow’s dog daemon. Without a sound the final roadblock fell away.
Three days before his forty-second birthday Mathias Luxon was appointed head of the Magisterium. In the year that he has been in office the Church coffers has swelled, dissent has been thoroughly quashed, and faith as a whole has risen. The people adore their leader… they would, having no knowledge of the path he walked to get there. A path he would gladly walk again.
Role-play sample: Rain… it was raining. This was his realm… why couldn’t he just make the rain stop? He had already tried to snap his fingers, hoping the rain would understand this as a cue to leave. He had also tried standing in the rain and yelling at it to just turn around, but it had blatantly ignored his divine commands. With a huff of indignation he stormed back into his palatial chambers. To his utmost dismay he had only been granted a few moments of respite… a knock came at the door. Luxon ignored it… there it came again. Merihem brushed soothingly against his face before dropping to the ground, making her way to the mahogany doors. With a flick of her substantial tail it slid open, allowing the young clergyman to enter.
“Greetings, your Excellency. We’ve intercepted a message from the Nipponese…”
Luxon’s leonine eyes narrowed at the mention of the Nipponese, a subject that caused him no small amount of stress. They were a jolly group of heathens, worshiping all manner of twisted and inherently flawed deities. Yet their remote location prevented a full-scale assault… their economy was also fairly important to the success of their own, to his great dismay. Any hostility displayed by the Magisterium might alienate their contacts in the senate. Wiping away his grimace, Luxon rose from his desk with a friendly smile.
“Do tell, brother. I’m sure, though, that it could have waited until after dinner. We need things to talk about at our congregations. If you keep bringing all of the news to me, how will anyone else feel special? Really, Lorring, it almost seems as if you’re trying to gain special favor with me.”
A smirk of embarrassment played upon Lorring’s lips, revealing that this was indeed his intention. Though his visage was warm and ever so welcoming, Luxon was anything but pleased. Such blatant efforts at sucking up… his man was no courtier. Just a foolish child. Merihem felt his agitation, increasing the rate at which her tongue darted out. Hissing, she plucked the envelope from Lorring’s gloved hand. His eyes widened with shock, a minute gasp escaping his lips. As Luxon took the letter from his Daemon he tilted his head.
“Is anything wrong? You seem a bit uncomfortable…”
Lorring remained silent, watching his leader peruse the letter. Quite suddenly he found himself on the ground, shrieking with agony. A bullet had lodged itself in his shoulder… Luxon glanced down at him with a look of complete distaste. The pistol in his hand smoked ominously.
“The next time you bring me mail, do not read it first. Do you think I can’t tell when a seal is tampered with? Your offense will be overlooked… don’t do it again.”
Lorring’s daemon, a beetle, scuttled out of the man’s shirt. Its movements were halting, its tiny wings flickering in agitation. Lorring, on the other hand, stared up at Luxon. Nodding apologetically he took his leave, blood trailing behind him.
“We’ll need to do away with him in the next week.”
Merihem had resumed her position on his shoulders, her silvery tongue darting in and out with renewed vigor.
“Yessss… he knowsss too much for an acolyte. Nothing to do but end hissss pitiful existence.”
A deep chuckle burst from Luxon’s mouth, the light bringing out the gold in his eyes.
“He’ll be closer to salvation then. But then… salvation is more of a collective ideal than a realistic goal. Best not to tell the people, no?”
Custom title: Acta Sancti
Celebrity claim: Michael Emerson
Previous roles you have played: Kings, Queens, thieves, an ex-cardinal, various revolutionaries, a little boy that looked like a girl, seven madmen, child prodigies galore, a traveling scholar, and a fourteen-year-old CEO. They all hated religion, so this is a twist.
Code word (Will be modified by staff after acception):
Nicknames: Grant
Species: Human {English}
Gender: Male
Age and birthdate: February the ninth, 1807
Physical appearance: One does not quail in terror upon glancing Mathias Luxon. A man of average height and a weight considered a bit below the norm, this man of the cloth is a frumpy reminder of the clergy’s olden days in which poverty was glorified. That isn’t to say Luxon is a gaunt wretch… perish the thought. His skin is smooth and appropriately pale, due in no small part to the scholarly habits of Mister Luxon. A peek into his eyes only serves to reaffirm any claims in favor of his good health.
Nature rarely elects to bequeath lowly humans with grand eye colors. As with most, Luxon was overlooked in the distribution of such marvels. His eyes are, for the most part, brown. Yet it is the golden specks lurking just beyond the power of a single glance that set them apart, catching the light in undeniably mysterious ways when the situation demands it. They seem to burn with righteous flame, though that may just be the ravings of heretics. Flame or not, Luxon wears a pair of small spectacles to offset the damage caused by years of reading by candlelight.
The hair of Mister Luxon is all the more unremarkable, being of a far less intriguing brown than his eyes. One might liken it to mud… or pudding. Entirely undesirable pudding, no doubt. This most deplorable of colorations inspires nothing short of absolute apathy in the aging fellow’s heart. Being of the traditionally short length popular among the clergy, Luxon’s hair is left to point in every direction, as if straining to escape the troubling thoughts lurking just centimeters beneath it.
Luxon scoffs at the traditional Magisterial garb, preferring instead to don finely tailored suits. When the situation demands it he wears the robes of his office, though his alterations have made them far more flamboyant than intended. Running with the serpent motif Luxon has sewed golden snakes onto every outfit. The younger members of the Church consider it quite fun to seek out these telltale reminders of Luxon’s eccentricity.
Special abilities: Nothing has made itself apparent. It has been suggested that Luxon’s voice carries more power than most, though nothing is proven.
Likes: Luxon is quite fond of animals, with extra attention being paid to rabbits and small birds. Snakes also hold a special place in his heart. As a scholar, Luxon is deeply infatuated with books. Old ones especially. As to nature, Luxon adores the cold and all that goes with it.
Dislikes: Luxon dislikes children, the infirm, the elderly, and the obese. He rarely shows these distastes, yet they can be seen in the movements of his thin eyebrows. Additionally, having to repeat himself infuriates Luxon.
Fears: Fire absolutely terrifies the man. Then again, fear is a logical response to something so crude. Luxon’s also weary of fish.
Interests: Luxon’s a bit of a cartographer, collecting and creating maps of myriad locales. He practices marksmanship religiously, anticipating constant threats to his life.
Personality (2-3 paragraphs): Absurdly nonchalant is a phrase thrown about within the Church in reference to Luxon. It’s an understandable misconception… Luxon is quite lighthearted, as they so often say, in his daily interactions. Certainly more so than his uptight peers. In official matters of magisterial law, however, he lets a bit of his true self shine through.
A miraculous orator, Luxon’s voice flows through one flesh to snare the heart and mind. His eyes burn with that divine fire, his fist strikes the podium, and everyone is under his sway. He has an almost casual way of ordering the deaths of the Church’s enemies, inspiring both fear and roaring support. Luxon’s mind is a deep, unfathomable thing. Wheels within wheels, fires within fires, one might say. He never stops thinking… the majority of his energy is depleted in a valiant effort to foresee every possible outcome to each and every event in the mortal sphere. He makes a point of preventing this from interfering with his duties, though it does give Luxon chronic migraines.
There are rumors that Luxon is afflicted by hypomania. This particular mental disorder is, in most cases, more beneficial than harmful. It has the delightful habit of preventing those blessed with it from realizing their limitations, urging them to press on regardless of logic. A hero’s disorder, often leading to a hero’s death.
Daemon's name: Merihem
Species: Python {African Rock Python}
Gender: Female
Appearance: Merihem is a peculiar creature, possessing the abnormal coloration that Luxon’s eyes lack. Her body is primarily a bluish grey, giving way to brilliant golden patches here and there. One such patch is located upon Merihem’s serpentine face. She’s fairly long {as African pythons tend to be}, reaching well over eighteen feet when fully extended. She prefers to drape luxurious length over Luxon’s shoulders, winding herself around his torso and left leg, occasionally making her way down his right arm. The effect is unsettling.
Personality: The great serpent serves as Luxon’s stabilizer, keeping him anchored to the mortal plane. Were it not for Merihem’s gentle chiding he may simply fade into deep thought and never come back. Calm regardless of the situation, she has nothing in the way of mercy or remorse, encouraging Luxon to do whatever is needed to preserve the power of the Magisterium. Her voice is just as intoxicating as that of her human counterpart, and she has no qualms about using it around others. Furthermore, the taboo does not limit Luxon and Merihem as it does most. If someone needs strangling… she’s happy to oblige.
Family lineage: The Luxon line is one of atheistic scholars, passing prodigious wealth along through the generations. The parents of Mathias were in many respects an extreme representation of this, striving to eliminate the church’s influence. They perished in a fire during Mathias’ ascension. His grandfather, Morigan Luxon, yet clings to life.
History: Born to scholars, Luxon was raised in a musty world of books and poor lighting. Being of a gifted financial state he was spoiled quite thoroughly, instilling in him values appropriate to his station. Step on the poor, seize power, laws are guidelines. True to these querulous ideals Luxon resolved to rule the world. A child’s dream, to be certain. Yet it stuck with him as he grew older. He began to see the weakness in those around him, the frailty of a human condition. Could it be that they need to be controlled? Could they be so weak as to require constant direction from a benevolent higher power?
So came Mathias Luxon to the Church’s doorstep, for their beliefs coincided with his own in many respects. It would be through the Magisterium that he would gain strength. What a glorious scam! By assuring the people that they would be saved in the next life, what was to stop them from working tirelessly in his favor in this one? They would gladly fling themselves into the fire-mines if the Church advised it as a more efficient means of procuring salvation. Armed with ambition and a cautious cynicism, Luxon began to ascend the Magisterium’s ranks.
In the roughly twenty years that Luxon has spent within the church, a great deal has happened. Twice was he deployed with Magisterial battalions to subdue pockets of profanation. On the second trip he found his zeppelin consumed by flames, moving rapidly toward the ground. Stumbling out of the wreckage, he and three other survivors were immediately beset by armed dissenters. Being of sound mind, Luxon promptly threw one of his companions into the path of bullets intended for him. Wasting no time he took up his fallen ally’s rifle, with which he dispatched those who would do him harm. To ensure that credit went where it was due, Luxon slew his remaining companions. A single survivor makes more of a hero.
For a time Luxon found himself the personal secretary of the Consistorial Court of Discipline’s head. In Luxon’s humble opinion, this man was far too soft… not at all worthy of any position pertaining to discipline. Accordingly, Luxon did away with him. By now the young man already had quite a following. This made his labors all the more easy. Upon his supervisor’s death, Luxon took up the position. With it came the title of Cardinal, making him the youngest person to ever be called such.
The next years would prove to be the most essential to Luxon’s rise. His superiors readily recognized the extent of his ambition, acknowledging that they would either have to stop him now or stand aside. Most chose the latter, though one brave soul preferred the former. A knight at heart, the poor man challenged Luxon to a duel. Mister Luxon, however, had other plans. Playing his opponent’s game, he invited the man to share a glass of Tokai with him before the fight. As his would-be foe drank, Merihem quietly suffocated the fellow’s dog daemon. Without a sound the final roadblock fell away.
Three days before his forty-second birthday Mathias Luxon was appointed head of the Magisterium. In the year that he has been in office the Church coffers has swelled, dissent has been thoroughly quashed, and faith as a whole has risen. The people adore their leader… they would, having no knowledge of the path he walked to get there. A path he would gladly walk again.
Role-play sample: Rain… it was raining. This was his realm… why couldn’t he just make the rain stop? He had already tried to snap his fingers, hoping the rain would understand this as a cue to leave. He had also tried standing in the rain and yelling at it to just turn around, but it had blatantly ignored his divine commands. With a huff of indignation he stormed back into his palatial chambers. To his utmost dismay he had only been granted a few moments of respite… a knock came at the door. Luxon ignored it… there it came again. Merihem brushed soothingly against his face before dropping to the ground, making her way to the mahogany doors. With a flick of her substantial tail it slid open, allowing the young clergyman to enter.
“Greetings, your Excellency. We’ve intercepted a message from the Nipponese…”
Luxon’s leonine eyes narrowed at the mention of the Nipponese, a subject that caused him no small amount of stress. They were a jolly group of heathens, worshiping all manner of twisted and inherently flawed deities. Yet their remote location prevented a full-scale assault… their economy was also fairly important to the success of their own, to his great dismay. Any hostility displayed by the Magisterium might alienate their contacts in the senate. Wiping away his grimace, Luxon rose from his desk with a friendly smile.
“Do tell, brother. I’m sure, though, that it could have waited until after dinner. We need things to talk about at our congregations. If you keep bringing all of the news to me, how will anyone else feel special? Really, Lorring, it almost seems as if you’re trying to gain special favor with me.”
A smirk of embarrassment played upon Lorring’s lips, revealing that this was indeed his intention. Though his visage was warm and ever so welcoming, Luxon was anything but pleased. Such blatant efforts at sucking up… his man was no courtier. Just a foolish child. Merihem felt his agitation, increasing the rate at which her tongue darted out. Hissing, she plucked the envelope from Lorring’s gloved hand. His eyes widened with shock, a minute gasp escaping his lips. As Luxon took the letter from his Daemon he tilted his head.
“Is anything wrong? You seem a bit uncomfortable…”
Lorring remained silent, watching his leader peruse the letter. Quite suddenly he found himself on the ground, shrieking with agony. A bullet had lodged itself in his shoulder… Luxon glanced down at him with a look of complete distaste. The pistol in his hand smoked ominously.
“The next time you bring me mail, do not read it first. Do you think I can’t tell when a seal is tampered with? Your offense will be overlooked… don’t do it again.”
Lorring’s daemon, a beetle, scuttled out of the man’s shirt. Its movements were halting, its tiny wings flickering in agitation. Lorring, on the other hand, stared up at Luxon. Nodding apologetically he took his leave, blood trailing behind him.
“We’ll need to do away with him in the next week.”
Merihem had resumed her position on his shoulders, her silvery tongue darting in and out with renewed vigor.
“Yessss… he knowsss too much for an acolyte. Nothing to do but end hissss pitiful existence.”
A deep chuckle burst from Luxon’s mouth, the light bringing out the gold in his eyes.
“He’ll be closer to salvation then. But then… salvation is more of a collective ideal than a realistic goal. Best not to tell the people, no?”
Custom title: Acta Sancti
Celebrity claim: Michael Emerson
Previous roles you have played: Kings, Queens, thieves, an ex-cardinal, various revolutionaries, a little boy that looked like a girl, seven madmen, child prodigies galore, a traveling scholar, and a fourteen-year-old CEO. They all hated religion, so this is a twist.
Code word (Will be modified by staff after acception):